Withered Love (Jeff the Killer x Jane the Killer)

Prologue

I stared at the boy before me. My hands were cuffed behind my back and my body ached in every joint. In vague consciousness, I watched Jeff stride towards me, his hands tugged into his pockets. A crooked grin stretched from ear to ear. Tears prickled the corners of my eyes as I waited for my doom. I wished this was just another terrible nightmare, but the essence of pain convinced me otherwise. Everything was real. So damn real. It was hard to accept the truth. He, whom I loved, had slaughtered my precious family. He murdered them one by one, right in front of me. Ripped clothes. Distorted limbs. Torn corpses. They were everywhere, all around me.

I arched my back and struggled to break free. Of course, my attempt was futile. I was stuck. There was simply no way out. I wriggled only to feel blood gush out from the wounds on my wrists. He watched with amusement and gave me a devious smile. His shirt was soaked in blood. My parents' blood. The thought of losing them made me scream again. Perhaps I, myself, was going insane too.

"Jane, if you scream like that, you're going to lose your voice."

I ignored him. My lunacy was closing in. I hated him so much. I hated him to death. The mere sight of him disgusted me to a point I wished I could just scratch him and tear that skin off his disfigured face. Impossible. I was the hostage. I couldn't imagine what he had in store for me.

"W-Why...Why are you doing this to me?" I wailed and kicked my legs weakly.

"This is a good question."

Jeff squatted down and reached out his hands to touch my face. I shook him off with disdain. No, I didn't want him to touch me again.

"Jane, if I were you, I wouldn't resist so much," he sighed. He leaned closer. Gosh, his look scared the hell out of me. I glared at his pasty, leathery face. It was unsightly. He had carved himself a permanent smile and burned his lids off, turning his eyes into two ghastly holes. His dark orbs sucked my soul and penetrated every thought of mine. I supposed he already knew what I was thinking. He sensed my fear.

"You know what, I always thought you were different," he said calmly and stroked my hair. "But I guess I was wrong."

"What do you mean?"

He ran his fingers over my cheeks.

"And I thought you loved me, but you're just like them," he said. "You're looking at me the same way they do. You think I'm a monster, don't you? Do I look like an alien to you?"

I frowned. Realisation struck me. I quickly shook my head. "No...it's not like that...Jeff..."

"Your eyes betray your heart. You've never looked at me like this before, Jane. And I thought you would always stand by my side."

"Jeff, please, let me go..."

"Beg and pray. That might help," he said with a chuckle. "You're still cute and all. I suppose someone like me is now a mismatch for you. It's perfectly alright for you to hate my face. Even sometimes, I find myself hating it when I look into the mirror."

"Jeff, I didn't mean to...I was...Well...I..."

He shushed me. He wrapped his arms around me and rested his head against my chest. "Jane, I can hear your heart beat. How wonderful it will be if I dig it out and crumple it."

"No...Jeff, don't do that...I'm sorry."

"It hurt a lot, you know, when you decided to tag along with others and run from me. I thought you would always be the one to stay behind but geez, am I wrong. So wrong. I misjudged you. You're actually no better than any one of them, anyone who deserves death."

"Please...Jeff, don't kill me."

"I won't," he said and planted a swift kiss on my forehead. "I would save the best for you, sweetheart."

He pulled away from me and started walking away.

"No, Jeff, don't go. Get me out of here, please!" I cried.

"I'll be back in a minute, Jane."

He slammed the door behind him with a sinister laugh.

Minutes passed and he never returned. I had no idea what was happening outside. I couldn't hear a single noise. I wondered if he was going to just leave me like this. I hoped I could survive his sadistic game. Even if I were to be killed, I hoped someone would arrest him and send him to jail. An asylum would be nice. He was sick in the head. So sick. He was never like this in the past though. And I thought we were lovers...

Slowly, I leaned back against the wall and let my lids fall.