Creepypasta Origins & Stories

Jeff The Killer vs Slenderman

The dark, wet alley was slightly illuminated by Sarah’s cell phone light, as she shined it every few seconds to see where she was headed. Her eyes scanned the darkness, and she shook crazily. What had happened to her last night was a mystery. She thought back, back to the bar. She had just came in with some friends, just a fun night out. Nothing could have happened, or so she thought. Now she was trembling, walking from building to building at three in the morning. Again she thought back, but everything was a blur. She passed an old ratty motel, and a pub.
Sarah made her way to the outskirts of her neighborhood, around a heavily wooded area. She walked, she clenching her eyes shut tight for moments at a time. She was huddled into her coat for warmth as the cold rain covered her for what seemed like an eternity. Just as her eyelids took cover of her eyes, something shined out of the corner of her vision. She instantaneously flashed her eyes open once again, and her pupils became wide. She looked around. Nothing stood out in the blackness and rain. She spun around and continued her way back, hoping she would make it home. As she studied her surroundings, she remembered a shortcut that she took as a kid when playing “Hide and seek” with her childhood playmates.

It involved climbing through the woods. The cold woman hesitated, but came to the decision that anything that would get her to her warm home quicker is the better way. Sarah headed towards the forest. As she made her way in, the first tree she laid eyes on had been marked. What was on marked on the tree mystified her, what looked like a circle with an X inside. She knew nothing of its origin or meaning, so she just assumed this was some kind of gang symbol, or something of the sort. Making her way into the forest, she recalled the fun times she had as a kid. She thought to herself out loud.

“I miss those times. Back when the world wasn’t a ba-”

Her voice trailed off. Sarah heard the loud crack of a tree branch off in the distance behind her. Terrified, she began running through the woods, and she soon became lost. She continued on anyway, hoping for a way out. Her lack of caution quickly resulted in her leg being caught on a near lying root, and she fell to the ground. Attempting to get up caused her even more pain. She had twisted her ankle.

“Somebody please.. help me!” she called out.

The crunching of leaves became present again. She attempted to stand up and run once again, but her injury kept her in one place. She clenched her eyes shut out of fear, and as she opened them again, a tall, white man dressed in a suit stood before her. She had become visually impaired at the sight of this man. She began screaming in terror, but was soon silenced by the slender, pale man that stood before her in the dark.

Four o’ clock. What once was a young boy, now was a cold blooded psychopath. Jeff the killer had just finished what he called his “Daily rounds”. The slaughtering of innocent people, this was almost all that flooded Jeff’s mind. He dragged his feet up the wet cement as he entered what he had called his home for years. Jeff stepped foot into a world of tragic memories, clutching two whiskey bottles in hand. Jeff had become a drunken killing machine. His brain was filled with the scent of murder. One thought that did cross his psychotic mind had been there since day one. As the rain hit the weary house, Jeff began to recall the night in which he slaughtered his entire family. He chuckled at the thought. If it wasn’t for his insanity, he may have thought about regret. Remorse for taking the lives of the people he once loved. But that wasn’t possible at this point. Jeff was out for one thing and one thing only. Death.

Five o’ six in the morning. He took another swig at his alcohol.

“What in the fuck am I sitting here for..” Jeff buzzed.

As he got up to make his way into the night, he swerved a bit, and took another chug at his whiskey. The alcohol hit his warm, bloody lips, and he felt an odd sensation. A sudden urge had hit him. He stood in the room, gazing out at the forest beyond the house. Jeff checked his pockets- cigarettes, a lighter, and of course his knife. Jeff knew that something wasn’t right. The feeling he got was a mix of the urge to kill again, and something far different than what he had ever felt before.