Jeff the Killer's Point of View
Jack's room was clean if you compared it to most at the Mansion.
First off, the bed was neatly made, books were arranged by height, and the floor was pretty clean with very little scraps of paper and blood covering the carpet.
Jack also had a small basket full of nothing but CDs.
"Who the fuck is Cyndi Lauper?" Jeff asked, a bit harsher than he had meant. Jack's masked face stared at him.
"You're a fucking idiot if you don't know her. She sang—nevermind. Why? Did you expect me to have Three Days Grace or Linkin Park?"
"I expected you to have something from our decade, " Jeff sneered. As he examined the disc closer, he noticed Jack did have an album of Three Day's Grace.
Jeff tripped over his feet as Jack moved him out of his way.
Jack stumbled a bit, going over to the basket and flipping through CDs, each making a satisfying click! as they met the previous CD. Finally, he found what he was searching for.
"Here. This is my favorite." Jack handed the killer a dull golden case.
Jeff examined it. A star was on the front, except where the top of the star should've been, there was a guy who was either pointing his finger towards the sky or pointing his gun to the sky. You know, like an idiot.
And in the star, right beneath the idiot's feet, were capitalized, white, letters that read, Hamilton.
Beneath that, it said, An American Musical.
"I knew you were a nerd but who the Hell writes a musical about one of the Founding Fathers?" Jeff asked, causing Jack to throw one of his pillows at him.
"It's fucking good, Joker Reject." Jack harshly stated, taking the disc and placing it in the radio player.
"Okay then, Miss Jane," Jeff responded, causing Jack to give him the finger.
Jeff automatically stopped talking.
Jeff the Killer's Point of View
Jeff walked over to Jack's bed and he sat down.
"So, what are we doing, Cat-Man?" Jeff asked, smirking.
"I wanted to learn a bit more about each person. Their lives, where they live, their jobs," Jack said, ignoring his new pet name. His responses were short and gave Jeff very few answers.
"Max lives two cities from here," Jeff told his partner, trying to help.
A simple, "I know," was Jack's response. He didn't find Jeff to helpful.
"Max works a part-time job at Chuck E. Cheeses. They're sixteen and attend Westside High."
Jeff gave Jack a look of admiration before turning back to his usual self.
"Okay, so Karen, Patricia, and Chad... Easy prey!" Jeff grinned, trying to make the cannibal laugh.
"Their names are—" Jack got ready to correct before realizing the joke and laughing a bit. "Idiot."
Jeff faked a gasp, being a bit overdramatic, causing Jack to throw a second pillow at him.
"Shut up." Jack hissed.
Jeff listened, surprising the demon.
Jack studied the killer, in the moment of rare silence.
He noticed Jeff's signature smile seemed to be fading and the roots of his hair were dark brown.
Jeff left soon and Jack stayed in his room for the remainder of the day.